Admiration
by Tinkerbell1
Summary: A story about a Japanese girl named Elaine Hoshi and her admiration and lust after Helga Sinclair--told in Elaine's POV. Oh yes, no homophobics, please. :) (Note: Changes have been made in the first paragraph of Ch. 1, please r/r! Arigatou! ^^)
1. The First Time

Admiration and Lust  
  
By: Tinkerbell  
Disclaimer: I don't own "Disney's Atlantis: The Lost Empire", 'tay, peoples? Helga and all of that are copyrighted by Disney but Elaine is mine. ^.~ No touchy.  
  
Miscellaneous riffraff: This fanfic includes homosexualism. If you are not open-minded and a homophobic, I suggest you leave immediately. Otherwise, enjoy. ;) Oh yes. Ahem. I love Helga! :) And yes, Elaine is supposed to be moi. Okay. I'll shut up now.  
  
  
-Chapter One: The First Time-  
I sit upon the balcony behind my mother's old-fashioned house, feeling the crisp breezes that ran across my face. Slowly, I opened my eyes and looked up above. In the clouds, I could see the face of a woman I once knew. She was Helga Sinclair, a lovely German 30-year old woman whom I once worked for. My admiration and love for her still lives on because in my heart, I feel as if she were still alive...just maybe...  
  
Oh, I see I haven't formerly introduced myself. I am Elaine Hoshi--former apprentice to Ms. Helga Sinclair. A lot of people ask me how I ever managed to work for her. Well, it started about 5 years ago, when I was about 22.  
  
I worked at a fancy Japanese restaurant back then. Pay was extremely low, but getting a job was difficult for me and besides, the people who worked there alongside me were such kind people. We were doing quite well until a billionaire who went by the name of Preston B. Whitmore decided to buy the place. Our manager, without hesitation, sold the place. After all, Mr. Whitmore offered a great amount of money. He sent one of his bodyguards to inspect the restaurant-a female. The only female military figure I've ever seen. She stepped in the restaurant in a long elegant black dress with a transparent scarf-like piece that hung around her elbows. Her beautiful hair was tucked into a tight braid, which matched the strict tone in her voice.  
  
At first, I envied her...severely. Such splendor lurking around in my presence and here I was, a pathetic low-like about to be unemployed.   
  
After an inspection, she sat at a table, waiting for someone to take her order. Obligated by the others, I strolled over there equipped with a notepad and pen. "Konnichiwa and good evening. Can I take your order?" I asked awkwardly.  
  
"Yes, I would like a cup of brewed tea and some odangos-and make it quick," she replied.  
  
As I wrote it down on my notepad, she looked up and me, saying, "This is a beautiful restaurant."  
  
My eyes slightly widened at her comment. I couldn't help but to look at her and at that instant, a warm feeling surrounded me. Within her eyes I saw a small trace of compassion and felt that there was much more to this cold-hearted woman. Realizing what I was doing, I blinked and went about my business, only wondering what that feeling I had deep inside of me was...  
  
7:00 pm.  
  
My co-workers had bid each other good luck and farewells. Our last customers left the restaurant. Helga Sinclair, the inspector, was taking a last glance around the area. I had just finished taking down the decorative papyrus scrolls from the walls.  
  
Slowly, Ms. Sinclair began walking out of the restaurant. Angered, I let my frustration out and exclaimed, "How could you?"  
  
She stopped and turned to face me. "Excuse me?"  
  
"How can you and your employer be so careless? My friends are wandering about in depression without jobs and yet you don't even care one bit."  
  
"It's not my problem." She smirked.  
  
"You are just plain selfish."  
  
"Are you that desperate of a job? Because judging from your speech, I assume you are the one wandering about in depression without a job."  
  
Without anything to say to her, I bit my lower lip, trying to restrain myself from breaking the scrolls I held in my fists.   
  
"Do you cook?" she questioned, unexpectedly.  
  
Puzzled, I lifted my view of her floor up to her once again. "...Several Japanese dishes," I replied softly.  
  
"I have a job for you then."  
  
What? Just a moment ago, she and I were having a small argument and now she offers me a job?  
  
Suddenly, I had that bizarre feeling inside me again...  
  
(Read Review! ^.^ I accept compliments, comments, suggestions, and flames. :} )  



	2. Christopher Jenkins

Chapter Two:   
C h r i s t o p h e r J e n k i n s  
  
By: Tinkerbell, still. :P  
Author's Note: Okay, Christopher Jenkins WAS an actual character, in a way. He was mentioned in one of the four rare Atlantis books--"The Journal of Milo Thatch." :) Just to letcha know. Oh, and he's copyrighted by Disney. ^_~ *squirts Christopher with a Super Soaker* Okay, enjoy Chapter 2. :)  
  
  
While in her black car, a classic Dorfenheimer Wildcat, we got better acquainted.  
  
"Such a beautiful car," I commented. "How did you ever afford such a beauty?"  
  
"It was given to me by Mr. Whitmore," she answered.  
  
I smiled, sniffing the car's unique fragrance. "It is quite lovely." Then I looked up above, to observe the glittering stars painted across the dark sky. "Such fascinating sky diamonds we have tonight."  
  
I had always enjoyed looking at the stars sparkling against the midnight sky. Helga interrupted my reverie when we reached her mansion. The mansion was incredible. In front of it stood a fountain that seemed to light up the whole area with a radiant cerulean glow.  
  
Inside was even more astonishing. A large glistening chandelier hung from the ceiling of the main room, the walls were covered with elaborate designs, and well, I was quite overwhelmed by all of this.  
  
In the kitchen, Ms. Sinclair offered me a seat and fixed two cups of tea.  
  
Still glancing around, I asked, "How do you manage this gigantic domain of yours by yourself?"  
  
"That is why I've invited you over to discuss about. This was my father's residence here in America before he passed away. In his will, he left me this house and I'm afraid I'm much too busy working most of the day to do any housekeeping."  
  
"So...you need a housekeeper."  
  
"Exactly. Are you interested?"  
"Wait...you asked me whether I was able to cook back at the restaurant-"  
  
"I will also require a cook."  
  
I vacillated for a minute and then answered," Well, since there are few jobs out there available...I will...accept."  
  
"Very well. I will guide you to your room."   
  
"Whoa! Whoa, time out. My room? I'm staying here?" I asked, a bit staggered. No, wait; I take that back. I was beyond staggered.  
  
"Yes? You have a problem with that?"  
  
I was flattered and actually felt loved, in a way. "No. No problem..." I answered softly.  
  
The phone rang.  
  
"Excuse me. I have to take this call. Feel free to direct yourself around," she sighed, sounded exhausted. As she was talking on the phone with Mr. Whitmore about the restaurant, I guided myself upstairs and down the halls, where I found several photos and portraits of her family and herself. This woman wasn't as cold and heartless as I thought. I knew that underneath her icy exterior, she was probably a whole different person. I began to actually build up a high appreciation towards this person.  
  
My thoughts finally paused when I feasted my eyes on a large portrait of Helga had another man. The picture was on the center of her bedroom wall, along with depictions of her six younger brothers. She was absolutely correct about needing a housekeeper. Silk blankets and pillows were spread out on the bed in a disorganized fashion. Clothes and even small handguns (Well, she does serve as a bodyguard for Mr. Whitmore) flung across the floor. It was quite interesting to find such an exquisite and dominant lady to have such a cluttered bedroom.  
  
Again, I stared at the portrait, wondering who the man could be...her father? Brother?  
  
"Former husband," she said, seemingly appearing from out of nowhere. "Christopher Jenkins."  
  
"F-Former husband? You were married? What happened to him?"  
  
"He...died...in a war." Helga closed her eyes for a brief moment as if she were holding back a tear and opened them up slowly.  
  
"How long were you two married?"  
  
"One year."  
  
"One year?" Odd.  
  
"One year."  
  
Why? Why were all of these emotions rumbling inside of me, ready to erupt? I was quite surprised at the fact that she had been married, yet upset because she had to face such a disappointing incident. On the other hand, I was somewhat satisfied by the fact the marriage lasted only a year and...was I actually feeling envious? I felt so selfish...  
  
"Are you going to let me assist you to your room now?" she questioned, trying to change the subject.  
  
I nodded.  
  



	3. Growing Passion

Chapter 3  
G r o w i n g P a s s i o n  
  
  
  
The nextt day, I was introduced to Mr. Whitmore. His mansion was just as splendid at Helga's—just a tad larger. He was quite a kind, likable guy and I found him very humorous. I stayed alongside with Helga the entire day, just to catch a glimpse of what her job is like. That's when my admiration for her grew intense. She was such a magnificent work of art yet she was equipped with brutal strength. Beneath that fierce exterior, I could sense pain and angst within her. Even though she longed for a companion, or so she thought, she hid her feelings well by appearing hostile and heartless. Was it because of her husband's death earlier in the year? Oh, if only I knew. She seemed mean to others but never to me for some reason...  
  
Over the next few months, Helga and I shared a special bond between each other. Something inside me told me not to upset her in any way, because if I did, this bond could shatter. Whenever she went off to work, I couldn't help myself but to sit around in her bedroom and sniff her fragrance upon the bed. I wanted to tell her how I felt. It always seemed easy to me to expose those three words out of your mouth but now, I find it very difficult, considering the fact we're both women. In a way, I felt scared, loving another woman in the way a woman would feel about a man. Sometimes I tried telling myself to stop and to just look at her as a friend, but she has this charisma to her I couldn't resist.   
  
One day, I decided to learn karate—just to surprise Helga and to show her that I was capable of doing things she could. She could possibly like me even more, and that was what I had hoped for.  
  
"Hah!" I yelled as I kicked a large kicking sack. My feet and legs were hurt and sore but I wanted to master this. No matter what, I just wanted to do this for Helga...for me. I consider myself weak—one of those women who often waits for her hero to save her. Today, I wanted to change that. Helga was such a tough female, she didn't let any man boss her around or touch her. That was exactly the person I wished to be: a powerful female who would let others have me doing what they wanted...with Helga as an exception, of course.   
  
With one forced kick, I fell down on the mattress, to tired to continue. Ms. Sinclair walked in (this WAS her training room) and saw me in her karate clothes. "What on earth are you doing?"  
  
"I was just...trying to...learn karate," I explained sheepishly. I could feel the heat gathering into my cheeks instantly.  
  
Helga smirked and shook her head. "You can't learn something like this without a teacher. Here, I'll show you how to do this."  
  
She started by doing a couple kicking and punching moves on the sack. Amazing, I thought.   
  
"It isn't hard once you get used to it," she said.  
  
Oh, the emotions that were swirling inside me again. She took my arms and arranged them into position. We went over the basic karate moves—who knew you had to start out slow?   
  
Helga preformed a high kick at the kicking sack. Such agility and perfection she bestowed. I knew I probably would be anywhere as great as she was but it was worth a try. She stood behind me, coaching my every move. "Focus on your target," she told me quietly.  
  
Sweat was running down my forehead. Was it because of the practice or was it because she was so close to me? I couldn't exactly tell.  
  
When she signaled for me to go, I jumped up and landed a kick on the sack. Without success, I bounced off the sack and landed smack into Helga's arms.   
  
"I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?" I asked immediately, ignoring my own status.  
  
She groaned slightly and replied, "No, I'm okay."   
  
I parted myself from her, held her hand and kissed it lightly. A kiss on the hand meant respect and I wanted her to know that I did. When I looked up, we stared into each other's eyes as if trying to read each other's minds; Helga seemed a tad stunned but I felt incredible. I had always been a coward and I never done anything like that my entire life...yet I was still a little scared, still scared of the feelings I had for her.  
  
A man interrupted us by opening the door and announcing, "Ms. Sinclair? Mr. Whitmore awaits you."  
  
As she left, she vaguely grinned at me and said, "It was nice to be here with you, kid. Bis folgendes Mal Lebe wohl."  
A tear rolled down my cheek...I realized that I was the only one who could decipher Helga's inner self. Today was just plain unbelievable...I hoped for another karate lesson tomorrow.  



	4. Almost...

Chapter 4:  
A l m o s t . . .  
  
  
The past few weeks I have been trying to master the art of karate with Helga coaching me. We've grown closer and closer together each day and it seems that Helga was beginning to like me more and more each day. My fear for my feelings for her has faded away gradually-I was no longer afraid...  
  
The next day, Helga asked me to dine with her at a brilliant French restaurant. My only question was why.  
  
Before the "date", I took a long warm shower. How refreshing it felt to have the waters dripping down my shoulders and caressing my back. Tonight, I wanted to be rinsed of my worries and fears so maybe I could tell Helga how I felt...  
  
I put on a lovely white gown and a magnificent silver necklace my father gave me. The necklace belonged to my great-grandmother, then my grandmother, and then my father. She should've given it to a girl if she had a daughter but she passed it on to my father so that he could pass it on to me. I looked at the necklace and closed my eyes. I loved my father so much...but we haven't seen each other in quite a while...  
  
Helga took me to the restaurant and as we walked in, a couple of children ran across our paths.  
  
"Ugh," she sighed, disgusted. "Children. Why can't they just grow up??"  
  
We sat down at a table, guided by one of the waiters. A menu was given to each of us. "Oh, don't force children to grow up so quickly. Childhood, unlike adulthood, is limited. Personally, I think children should be able to play because they have to spend the times they still have. I wish to have children sometime in my life; I adore children."  
  
Helga, still scanning through the menu, glanced at me and then replied, "I'll never have children. To me, they are the frustration of society. Besides, would you really want to go through the 'joy of childbirth'?"   
  
I rested my chin on my hands with my elbows on the table and gazed at her dreamily and said, "We could always adopt one."  
  
She raised an eyebrow at me. "We?"  
  
"Oh! Oh, I meant, 'I could always adopt one.'! My mistake." I smiled, looking embarrassed. Dear Lord, I was already ruining it.  
  
The waiter walked by, and took our order. After the slight interruption, Helga and I drifted back into conversation.   
  
"So, why did you take me out here, anyways?" I asked, curiously. I knew the answer I wanted but it was not likely for her to say so.  
  
"Your progress in karate has been increasing rapidly," she answered.   
  
I pulled back a lock of my hair behind my ear. Blushing, I said, "Well, I do have a wonderful teacher."   
  
She grinned. "It's surprising to see a girl who can even hurt a fly learn karate so quickly."  
  
"It's surprising to see someone who despises kids and amateurs to teach someone something like karate..." Again, I gaped at her.  
  
A waitress brought our meals to us. The two of us had a salad nicoise with a small bowl of cheese soufflé on the side. For desert, there was a plate of crepes in the center and two glasses of the finest wine they had.  
  
"You have been working for me for about 2 years now," Helga commented, eating her salad. "So I was thinking of giving you a day off."  
  
"A day off?"  
  
"Yes, to visit your sister. Tulip."  
  
"It's...Rose," I corrected, holding back a laugh.  
  
"Rose, Tulip, what's the difference?"  
  
"So...I can have the day off?   
  
Helga nodded, eating her salad.  
  
I smiled, sipping some wine. "Thank you. I haven't visit her in a long time."  
  
  
After a while of eating and talking about miscellaneous things, I decided to tell her. I looked at her and tried to find the right words...  
  
This was difficult...no matter what I tried; my words seemed moronic and utterly embarrassing. However, I thought that if I just said it, the words would come out eventually. Biting my lower lip, I began to quietly say,"Ms. Sinclair?"  
  
She looked up at me and responded. "Yes?"  
  
Oh dear...I felt myself blushing yet again and my hands trembling. "I...have been thinking..."   
  
As I looked into her eyes, I felt mine drenching with tears of fear. Suddenly, a thought popped into my head: if she found out I liked her, our friendship could be ruined. "Erm...are you going to eat that?" I pointed to her crepe.  
  
Helga shoved the plate towards me as she wiped off something from her lip.   
  
Once again, I acted like my cowardly self...  



	5. Rose Hoshi

Chapter 5:  
R o s e H o s h i  
  
By: Tinkerbell  
  
I was extremely happy, knowing that today I will be reunited with my younger sister, whom I haven't seen ever since I started working for Helga.   
  
Anxiously, I began knocking on the door hoping she was home. As I waited for her I looked around, admiring the glistening wind chimes and small colorful Japanese lanterns hanging around. Rose, my sister, was very fond of the Japanese culture, which comes from our father's side.  
  
At last, the door opened and before me stood my sister, dressed in a crimson kimono, covered in intricate designs of small dragonflies. She gasped. "Elaine? Is that really you??"  
  
Smiling at her adorable little face, I nodded.  
  
Ecstatically, she leaped out and wrapped her arms around me. "You FINALLY decided to come and visit me, hm? I missed you so much!"  
  
A tear of relief and happiness escaped my eye. "I missed you too, Rose," I whispered, embracing her.  
  
As she stepped aside, I wandered in and widened my eyes in surprise, looking at the elaborately decorated rooms, Numerous Japanese scrolls hung from the walls, small cherry blossom plants lurked in every corner, even the air was scented with a unique oriental fragrance. "I love what you've done to the lace," I complimented.  
  
"Arigatou," she replied, bowing to me.   
  
"This place reminds me of the times we visited Japan..." I turned to her and beamed.  
  
She nodded and pointed to the small Japanese table lying in the center of the room. "Would you care for some tea?"  
  
"Yes, tea would be wonderful," I answered, sitting on the floor in from of the stumpy table.  
  
Rose placed two petite cups and poured some herbal tea into each one.  
  
"Guess what?" she asked abruptly, putting the teapot down and sitting herself across from me. "I've been engaged to Kioshi!" eager to show it to me, she exposed the white diamond ring that rested on her fourth finger.   
  
Kioshi was a good friend of mine. When I introduced him to Rose, they feel in love immediately. I never expected for them to become engaged. "Beautiful ring," I commented, gazing at the ring...the diamond reminded me of the twinkling stars that surrounded Helga's mansion.  
  
"Have you met YOUR special someone?" she questioned in a snobbish tone.  
  
"Actually, I have."  
  
"Oh really, who? Is he attractive?"  
  
"I really shouldn't tel-"  
  
"Oh, come on, Elaine! I won't laugh! Honestly!"  
  
I turned away from her. "No...I can't..."  
  
The glare in Rose's eyes was a definite clue of her impatience. "Elaine..."  
  
I sighed, admitting defeat. "Her name is Ms. Helga Sinclair and she works for the infamous billionaire, Mr. Whitmore."  
  
My sister was stunned; her jaw dropped and her eye was twitching. "A her??"  
  
Tears gathered in within my eyes. "Yes..." I was sure that I was going to lose my best friend and sister.  
  
"Elaine, you ARE just joking, right?"  
  
I shook my head and closed my eyes for a moment, holding back the tears.  
  
"Please reconsider this decision...Kioshi has 2 older brothers! I could introduce you to one of them! Don't do this, Elaine," she pleaded.   
  
"Do you think my feelings for her are controllable?" I barked back at her. "I've tried preventing to develop feelings for her myself. It's no use...I love her."  
  
"But she's a woman!"  
  
"If you really loved someone, age, race, and gender would not matter to you, and the fact that Ms. Sinclair is a woman does not bother me. She is in need of a lifelong companion, a friend…someone who loves her."  
  
"But how do you know her?"  
  
"I have worked for her and lived in her mansion for two years now."  
  
Rose slightly smiled and wrapped my hand with hers. "I will respect your decisions. I love you, Elaine."  
  
I grinned, looking at our hands.  
  
"Does she know?"  
  
"No, not yet," I replied, looking up at her, blushing. "I'm afraid that if I told her, our friendship will die."  
  
"Oh, I see."  
  
Later on that day, Rose and I created small oil paintings, told each other recent events in our lives and other enjoyable recreational activities. She even gave me a deep blue kimono with designs of goldfish spilled all over it.  
  
I was glad to have such a sympathetic sister; Kioshi was fortunate to have such a wonderful fianceé...  



	6. Departed Souls

Chapter 6:  
D e p a r t e d S o u l s  
  
By: Tinkerbell  
  
My sister was a lovable person. Rose Anita Hoshi was her full name and like the rose, she was delicate and beautiful, kindhearted and forgiving, but can also be a prickly as its thorns. She was loved by a great number of people. She was engaged to a handsome young man, Kioshi Takashi just 5 months ago. The two of them planned to spend the rest of their lives together.  
  
However, they didn't quite happen. Rose was killed in a terrible vehicle collision, along with our father, Jirouhiko Hoshi. They were both planning to come visit me...  
  
The day of the funeral was such a tragedy. Attending were her closest friends, Kioshi, my mother, Helga Sinclair, and I, Elaine Sakuya Hoshi.  
  
I felt extremely remorseful for her devastated fianceé. Their dreams of living together happily had shattered into a million pieces. This made me realize that I could leave this planet any time and I didn't want to be left an unloved being.   
  
Kioshi went up to the coffin and placed an exquisite bouquet of white roses on it. He whispered something and then turned over to me. "Well, at least I know she's in heaven," he said, forcing a smile.   
  
After the funeral, Ms. Sinclair and I sat in her car and drive towards her residence.  
  
She noticed I was in tears and handed in a small soft handkerchief. "I'm sorry," she quietly said.   
  
Words could not escape my lips...…I was too depressed and concerned to speak.  
  
My master tried to break the silence. "Death is a part of life. My husband died years ago."  
  
Weakly, I began to converse. "How did you feel?  
  
Silence again.  
  
"Look, the point is that the past cannot be changed. You can't mope about it forever. That causes you to be weak."  
  
Judging from her hesitation, she was probably still hurt from the death of her husband. I admire her strength to live on, even after a loved one died.   
  
We walked into her mansion, where the two of us had coffee. I saw a trace of empathy in her facial expressions...her icy exterior had melted.  
  
I looked down at my cup of coffee. "Are you going back to work?"  
  
"I asked for permission to stay at home from work today," she replied, stirring the cream into her coffee.  
  
"...And why is that?" I asked, hoping for the answer I had to my head.  
  
Helga continued stirring the cream, not saying a word.  
  
"So...about your husband-how did you feel when he...died?"  
  
She let out a frustrated sign and raised an eyebrow at me. "You just don't know when to quite, do you?" Sipping her cup of coffee, she wandered into the living room and stood before the fireplace as if she was thinking of something. I quietly ambled into the room and stood beside her. Deciphering her inner self was complicated and difficult. Apprehensively, I placed my hand over hers.   
  
She looked at me and then at my hand. "You hand is cold...mind if I start up the fireplace?"  
  
My heart felt if it melted. I loved it when she was considerate like this. "I'll get the firewood..."  
  
I started walking off but Helga restrained me from doing so.   
  
"You've already had a bad day so far. I'll get the firewood."  
  
My heart was beating rapidly. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and tell her how much I loved her. However, what happened later was even better.  
  
The radiant fire blazed and danced around violently in the fireplace, which perfectly defined the emotions within me. We were sitting very closely to one another on the couch, with me leaning on her shoulder and a warm soft blanket embracing the two of us. Helga had her arm around me as she talked about the relationship between her husband and herself. Despite the conversation topic, I was quite comfortable. It felt like we had already known that I loved her and that she loved me back. Unfortunately, she was most likely just trying to comfort me but she was doing a splendid job.  
  
"...Then one day, I found out that he was killed in a war. I learned to accept the fact that life doesn't last forever and that death was perfectly natural."  
  
I head rested on her chest. "Have you ever considered falling in love with someone again?"  
  
"I try to avoid it. That way, I won't feel devastated again," she said. "Love causes pain."  
  
"What if it dragged you into it unbreakable chains?"  
  
"Elaine, you are one of the strangest people I've ever met," she chuckled to herself. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"I was just wondering..."  
  
"Do you already have your sights on someone?" she wondered aloud.  
  
I blushed and nodded. For once, I felted loved by her. Even though it was a disastrous day-losing my beloved father and sister whom helped me countless times throughout my life, Helga and I grew closer than we ever have. For once, she was acting like an actual person.  
  
In the depths of the night, I noticed Helga sleeping on the couch. Slowly, I drew my face closer to hers and laid my lips on her silky skinned cheek.  
  
"I love you, Helga."  



	7. Don't Go...

Ch. 7  
D o n ' t G o . . .  
  
The Shepherd's journal...  
  
A legendary book that is said to be found somewhere within Iceland-a book that could pinpoint the location of the lost city of Atlantis.  
  
It was unbelievable at first, a whole island inhabited by an enhanced civilization and technology that somehow completely vanished from the planet and to the bottom of the sea. However, my disbelief began to fade away after listening to Thaddeus Thatch's research and theories about the mysterious island. Thatch was a very close friend of Mr. Whitmore's. The two of them had complete faith in the vanished island and plans of finding it someday. Unfortunately, to accomplish that, you must retrieve the Shepherd's journal. Whitmore sent a crew of professionals to find the book and bring it back and among the crew will be Helga Sinclair. I didn't approve of her risking her life for a book, but she managed to arrive home safely, with the exception of a small bruise on her arm but nothing serious.   
  
After Thaddeus Thatch passed away, Whitmore intended to fulfill his comrade's dreams of discovering Atlantis. Somehow, I had a strange feeling deep inside me that something was going to happen. Something horrible.  
  
Several times already, I have asked Helga not to attend the voyage and each time I have received the same answer: "Nothing will happen."  
  
This was the day right before the journey. Helga had packed up for the trip and was scanning through the files of the crew members. The same assembly of people will be joining her except Thaddeus Thatch and Manuel Ramirez. Instead, Thatch's grandson and Ramirez's 18-year-old daughter were going to take their place. How a teenaged girl managed to take part in such a dangerous mission astounded me.  
  
That night, as Helga was getting ready to sleep for the night, I stood by the doorway. "Must you really do this?"  
  
"There isn't exactly a choice. I have to," she responded.   
  
"It's the money, isn't it?"  
  
Exhausted, she ignored my question and told me to go to bed. I didn't mean to annoy her, I was just worried...   
  
With my mind drowning in fear and concern, I could hardly sleep. Biting my lower lip, I clutched onto my pillow with my trembling hand. The feeling was intense; I knew something was going to happen. Attempting to close my eyes and drift off the sleep, visions began fluttering in my eyelids.  
  
First, appeared a gorgeous paradise, a paradise surrounded by glistening crystal waters and drenched by natural beauty. Atlantis? It had to be... Suddenly, the sky became dark and the sound of maniacal laughter stuck through the air. For some reason, I felt like was falling...  
  
Terrified, I opened my eyes-what was this vision telling me exactly? I couldn't understand.  
  
Why did Helga have to go?  
  
The next day, while Whitmore and Helga went over some paperwork in his office, I snuck into the martial arts training room in his mansion. This room and the fighting equipment brought back memories of Helga and I.  
  
Curious to see to I still had the skill, I began performing the moves Helga spent 3 weeks teaching me. Surprisingly, I was pretty good at it despite the fact that it has been years since I've practiced. I jumped up and attempted to high-kick the large kicking sack. Without success, I bounced off and landed in someone's arms.   
  
"H-Helga?? When did you--?"  
  
"5 minutes ago. I see how still haven't mastered that kick yet," she chuckled. "I thought I'd find you here. Listen, I have to drop by Milo Thatch's apartment in a minute. Can you stay with Whitmore for a while?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
Questions raced across my mind. Will she be okay? Are there strange diseases lurking in Atlantis? Was it even real?   
  
After Milo accepted to become a part of the expedition, we gathered into a gigantic ship and traveled far out into the sea, where the Ulysses will dive into the ocean and journey to Atlantis. As Helga was about to leave and step into the submarine, I held her hand and pleaded one last time, "Think about it Helga: what if Atlantis isn't real? Jeopardizing your life for a mythical city that might not even exist? That's ridiculous!"  
  
"What's ridiculous is how you keep irritating me about this whole thing! Stop concerning about me; nothing will happen," she hissed back in an aggravated tone.  
  
Refusing to give up, I gripped her hand, refraining her from stepping onto that submarine.   
  
"Why do you even care?"  
  
"Because I love you!"  
  
She looked back at me with a stunned expression on her face. "What?"  
  
My cheeks were heated. I couldn't believe I just blurted it out. "I...…love you," I repeated and sighed. "These past years of serving you had been a wonderful experience. For once, I actually loved someone and they had somewhat loved me back deep inside, or so it had felt. Even though you appear heartless to others, I know you act that way because of your deceased husband and inside is a desire for a companion. I've tried preventing myself from developing such feelings for you but it's hard to rid of them. I'm sorry to blurt all of this out at once and making you feel uncomfortable...gomen..."  
  
Just before she was about to respond, Mrs. Packard, the communications expert, announced for all crew members to aboard the ship.  
  
Helga looked at me and then down at my hand. She seem as she were somewhere between the lines of sadness and confusion. Knowing she would not stay, I held her hand to my lips and kissed it for luck. Loosening my grip on her hand, she started walking away slowly...  
  
"Lebe wohl, Elaine," I heard her say back to me.  
  
"Farewell, Helga," I replied.   



	8. Lost

Ch. 8  
L o s t  
  
I am such an idiot.  
  
I could have continued trying to prevent her from leaving but I didn't.  
  
Do I even deserve to live?  
  
Days after the returning of the crew, I called Whitmore, wondering where Helga went. His answer left a thorn in my heart: "She disappeared."  
  
I knew something was going to happen and I didn't even try to stop her from boarding that ship. For a long time I have seriously considered suicide; a life without her was not worth living. Somehow, something inside told me not to...  
  
I had to leave her house, as it mentions in Helga's will, she left the house to her eldest brother. As for me, I was left with nothing but an agonizing pain within me. Having nowhere else to go, I decided to stay with my mother. Each lonesome night I wept and buried my face into my pillow, trying to erase Helga from my mind.  
  
I was partially angry at Helga for not listening to me and partially mad at myself, for not trying hard enough to prevent her from attending the voyage. At times like this, I wish my sister were around so that I could have someone to talk to about this; Mother would never understand.  
  
Suddenly, I wished that I had never met Helga. Why did I ever accept her job offer? If I never accepted, I wouldn't be in this mess. During the first few days of Helga's departure, all I could think was how idiotic I was and about Helga.  
  
If Elaine were here, she'd tell me that it wasn't my fault. I miss my sister so much, as I do with my father. Yet I feel as if it were still because of me that she didn't return...  
  
Months later, Mother tried setting me up with another man. Admittedly, he was kind, considerate, and awfully generous but didn't have the charisma Helga held. I was obligated to marry him and start a family of my own. Although I didn't wish to end up with him, Mother told me that she wished to see her grandchildren before she died and that I was better of with him...  
  
Today, I am a divorced mother of a sweet young one-year-old girl whom I named Helga Yoshiko Hoshi, after the one most admirable person in my life. For some reason, I sensed that somewhere out there, Helga Sinclair could still be alive somehow. Again, I tilted my head towards the clouds and felt the small refreshing breezes racing through my skin. I knew that someday, we would be reunited again, whether it is in heaven or hell.  



End file.
